New and Old Love for Salaam-e-Ishq

I really loved Salaam-e-Ishq when I first saw it some 4 years ago. And I kept meaning to rewatch it but... life got in the way. Especially when you have to make time for 3.5 hours. So I just kept rewatching the songs (yes, I will rave again about Saiyaan Re! You didn't think I'd skip that step, did you?) and postponing the movie for another time.

Well, that time has come. I rewatched it. And my biggest conclusion from this experience is that the deeper you get into a hobby, the more quirks and pet peeves you develop. As much as I try to stay as open minded as I was when I watched my first Indian film, it seems that learning about the industries and about the culture over the years has altered my perception of certain tropes, plots and situations. And so it was that Salaam-e-Ishq won me over this time more with its technical prowess than with its stories. The best part about this rewatch was following how the tracks flow into each other, how one person picking up the phone in one story leads to another hanging up the phone in a completely different story. Truly masterful and engaging, I didn't want to miss a single frame. And that's a huge compliment for a movie that's 3.5 hours long and has so many characters to follow.

The first time I saw Salaam-e-Ishq, a movie that deftly juggles five love stories (I refuse to consider Sohail Khan trying to bang Isha Koppikkar as even a part of the story) I was in love with three of its tracks:

1) Tehzeeb and Ashu, the sweet Muslim-Hindu couple who fight to cope with Tehzeeb's memory loss after a train accident. I found Ashu's love for Tehzeeb and his hopeless battle to restore his wife's memories so touching that I didn't even mind the windblowing machine gently caressing Ashu's hair every time he was in the frame.

2) Raju and Stephanie, the Indian cab driver who falls for the white memsaab in search of her two-timing Indian boyfriend. This was the first time I found Govinda cute with his undeclared love for Stephanie and their tender chemistry made this one of my favourite couples ever.

3) Kkamini and Raoool, the filmi couple: Kkamini an item queen looking to land a part in a Karan Johar movie (why, Kkamini, whyyyyy???) and Raool a man posing as her fiance for PR purposes. I found them deliciously over the top and they gave the movie that glitz and glitter that I love so much in Bollywood.

The fourth story, Gia and Shiven, a couple about to get married solving the groom-to-be's cold feet issues, was cute and I really enjoyed Akshaye Khanna in it, but at the time I didn't find it memorable. Except for Shiven's bachelor party song. Hehe! You knew it was coming!




Last but not least, the fifth couple: Vinay, a man going through a mid-life crisis and Seema, his dutiful wife, annoyed the heck out of me, mostly because I found Vinay's punishment for cheating on his wife too light. Yes, I am cruel like that.

This time around, the only constant from the previous viewing was my disdain for the Sohail and Isha story. Nothing changed there. But let me tell you how all the other stories changed for me.

Tehzeeb and Ashu
I think Jhoota Hi Sahi ruined John Abraham for me forever. Now that I know he can act... I simply cannot tolerate sub-par acting from him anymore. It's sad really, because he does a decent job most of the time here, but poor man seemed so fake after being tear-gassed for most of the movie that I could not get into it anymore.

That said, I still found their story to have a lot of potential and I still appreciated the ending for its realism. Everything from the moment when they land in Shiven's apartment defied Bollywood conventions and that makes this couple rock even now. If only that fabulous writing could have been matched by John's acting... If only! 

Raju and Stephanie
This was the biggest disappointment for me because I never would have imagined seeing this story in a different way, but many love at first sight plots and too many goris in Bollywood later, I seem to have become very touchy to everything that uses either of the above. I know Raju was supposed to be so sweet with his dream of falling in love with a white tourist, but I simply failed to see the difference between his desire for Stephanie, and Stephanie's NRI fiance's decision to marry an Indian girl. Both were more preoccupied with the colour of the girl's skin than with who she really was. Don't get me wrong, I don't doubt that Raju's feelings were sincere in the end, as opposed to the NRIs, but a love story stemming out of camaraderie would have worked a lot better. As it was, Raju's obsession with meeting a gori memsaab made him seem shallow and yes, slightly creepy, despite Govinda's cuteness.

Also, after so many movies where the white girl just falls for the Indian guy because... uh... because he's Indian and people enjoy seeing such plots for whatever reason, I've come to be annoyed whenever this happens in a movie. Not to mention that it's really just a twist on the old stalking plot device: if you love her long enough and selflessly enough, she'll fall in love with you. No, Stephanie honey, no. You don't love him back after three days just because he's Indian and because he loves you more than your d00che-bag boyfriend. You might like him, you might be friends with him forever, and over time it may even grow into love, but you don't "unse pyaar karti ho". Or if you do, requesting permission to roll my eyes.

Kkamini and Rahoul
I still totally enjoyed these two characters. Though something about Salman Khan's facial expressions irritates the crap out of me. He reminds me of Cher whose high cheek bones and puckered lips are somehow mistaken for expression by whoever is still giving her acting roles. I've warmed up to Salman in his action roles only because they require minimal histrionics, but the serious scenes in a film like Salaam-e-Ishq really bring out his inability to project emotion. But all good, most of his role was calling for over the top antics, so it almost worked out for him. Besides, how cool is it to see a dude coming to propose riding a white horse? In London. Wearing aviator sunglasses. Classic!

I was once again bugged by the fact that Kkamini has to give up either love or her career, but this time around, because I feel that the industry has progressed somewhat since the times when this film was made, I can still hope that even if Karan Johar doesn't make her his heroine, other directors will. So this time around I didn't see her choice as a career-ending move anymore which made me happy. Amazing what 5 years can do to my perception of the industry, no?

Gia and Shiven
I don't think I used to like Akshaye Khanna as much as I like him now, so he really was a treat this time around. Despite the fact that his character was an idiot, he managed to make Shiven relatable, if not understandable. Yes, he's immature, shallow and disrespectful, but when he does get it, his change of heart is genuine and he does it while remaining the person that Gia fell in love with the first time around. I really enjoyed his scene at the wedding because everything he said and did was very much consistent with his goofball character. He continues to be immature and shallow, but he's now realized he wants to spend the rest of his days with Gia. Too many movies confuse falling in love (or realizing that one is in love) with a complete change of character and it's refreshing to see one that doesn't. Ullu da patha he started and ullu da patha he remains.

That said I was still confused about Gia's motivations, she really seemed keen on getting married, and I wasn't exactly sure why. Presumably the parents? Not sure... But I probably would have been freaked out about it too had I been in Shiven's shoes. Just sayin...

Vinay and Seema (and Anjali)
It's perhaps a good time to admit that I skipped through most of the scenes involving Vinay's younger love interest, including her song. That whole bit seemed heavy handed to me the first time around and I didn't think time would have made it better. But what caught my attention this time was the colour palette used with this couple. Or rather the non-colour palette, as everything is some shade or other of grey. Vinay's house, his office, his wardrobe, Seema's wardrobe, everything is blatantly lifeless, which is a stark contrast with Anjali's image: the highlights in her hair, the glitter on her diary, the excitement of her life as a dancer. Now I realize that this contrast could have been handled in a more subtle way, but I actually kind of liked the way it worked out visually and well... Salaam-e-Ishq is not a movie to take home any awards for finesse.

Also I found myself in a more forgiving mood this time. I wasn't as outraged by Seema's final decision because it did feel that Vinay had learned his lesson. And I suppose over the years I have come to appreciate that about people more than I used to. Funny how that is...


Overall Salaam-e-Ishq is still a winner in my book and I am still in awe at how effortlessly it sucked me in all over again, but I think some of that wide-eyed innocence I used to have when watching glittery Indian movies is gone for good now. Classic case of "it's not you, it's MEEEE!!", huh?


Salaam-e-Ishq (Hindi, 2007) 
Starring: Salman Khan, Priyanka Chopra, Anil Kapoor, Juhi Chawla, Akshaye Khanna, Ayesha Takia, John Abraham, Vidya Balan, Govinda, Shannon Esra, Sohail Khan, Isha Koppikar 
Directed by: Nikhil Advani 
Choreography: Bosco Caesar

Shanghai - A Highriser but not quite a Skyscraper

Hey guys, it's me. Oh, wait a minute, let me clean up the spiderwebs off the screen for you. Ah... there. Can you see me now? Remember me? It's a little dusty in here, and weeds have started growing in the corners of the floor of this space, but I brought a broom and a review to try and make this blog seem alive again.

 
And contrary to my usual format, I'll give you Dolce and Namak only for the first half while reserving the second half to a long rant about what didn't sit right for me in Shanghai (link to trailer).

Dolce: Emraan Hashmi is totally adorable! Where has he been until now? And more importantly: how did he manage to be the only character in this movie that my heart went out to despite his horrible looks? 

Namak: He's been around, but either he was great in movies where others stole the show, or he was strictly ok in movies that weren't much to write about. I'm pretty sure this is the first role where I can say he was absolutely brilliant. 

If someone had told me I would ever watch an Abhay Deol movie and fall in love with Emraan Hashmi I would have laughed for hours. Not because I haven't appreciated him before, I have, but he never blew me away. In Shanghai he most certainly did. From behind his Quasimodo-like appearance this videographer turned pr0nographer displays more warmth and wit than any other character in this story (sorry about the hacker spelling, by the way, just trying to avoid popping up in dirty searches). 

Dolce: And how s3xy was that angular moustache on Abhay Deol? 

Namak: I'm not sure about s3xy, but it did certainly add a je ne sais quoi to his persona. 

Dolce: Perfect casting? 

Namak: Perfect from where we're sitting. Though some critics have taken issue with the fact that his Tamil accent is not up to par, this is one of those times when not being native Hindi speakers really works in our favour. 

Dolce: Indeed. Besides, I can't think of anyone who would have pulled off his last scene so smoothly and with so much panache. Proof that you don't need to wield a machete or to shout your lines at the top of your lungs to be a badass. You can deliver a deadly blow even in a soft spoken, almost blank tone. A masterpiece of direction and histrionics that scene. 

Namak: Agreed. Though when it comes to Abhay Deol I expect excellence anyway.

Dolce: Sheesh! I would not want to be your kid. 

Dolce: And Kalki? 

Namak: Kalki is a tricky one. She's certainly competent but just like I'm getting tired of seeing Anushka Sharma playing the cheerful Punjabi kudi, I am also getting a little bit fed up with Kalki being typecast into the feisty outsider roles. For once I'd like to see her be happy in a few scenes. She has such a radiant smile, she comes across as such a fun person in her live appearances, if only someone could bring that on the screen too.

How adorable is she? Why can we not get that in her movies?

Dolce: Well, it's hard to avoid playing the outsider, she's white. 

Namak: True, but even outsiders can be happy and normal in India, no? 

Really all the actors in Shanghai did a fabulous job. Not a single character felt out of place, and it's a tribute to the fantastic craftsmanship of Dibakar Banerjee that we never once got lost in trying to keep track of the politicians and play-makers. In a film where so much space is given to the main characters and so little to the myriad of secondary characters surrounding them, I was truly impressed with how easy it was to identify not only who each of them were, but also what title they held and whose side they were on.

Dolce: Let's not forget the wonderful music! 

Namak: Though I'd rather forget that they didn't use our favourite song from the soundtrack. 

Dolce: I'm willing to forgive them for this because Imported Kamariya was such a delight! Not only was the song gorgeous (and tongue in cheek) but its deft editing around the scene that jumpstarts the movie was top-notch. 

Namak: That it was. And you know what else was top-notch? The background music. I can't remember the last time a film's background music made such an impression on us.

From the background music to the editing, to the sets, to the little things, such as a little slip on the freshly washed pavement, or the enthusiasm of the chai-wallahs buzzing around the politicians, or the subtle (and not so subtle) displays of power of the various police officers that come and go, Shanghai certainly gets all the details right.

One thing can not be denied about Shanghai: it's a well-crafted movie. Which makes my next comments even more painful because I really wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to leave the theatre and tap my feet on the subway anxious to get home and blog about it. And in a way I did, but not because it was a fabulous movie, rather because it wasn't fabulous enough.

Corruption is a big topic. In fact it's so big, so prevalent and so powerful that it becomes background noise for most of us, like pollution. We're aware of it, we know our way around it, we live in it, so we don't really notice it anymore. In order to make a powerful film about such a big topic, you would have to zero in on a situation, a set of characters, a moment in history that people can truly relate to. I felt that this was Shanghai's biggest flaw: it didn't make me care. Not only did it not give me enough background on the situation overall (though I can fill in the blanks thinking about similar situations in my own home country), but it also didn't manage to focus enough on the one situation it chose to describe.

Let me make a parallel. In the excellent The Ides of March there is a character (a woman) whose death sets in motion the entire plot of the movie. Her death is used and abused by everyone involved, in whatever way better serves their own purposes, without any regard whatsoever paid to the fact that she was a human being. THAT was irony. And it hurt, it made me shake my head, it made me think, it made me angry. In Shanghai, dr. Ahmedi's death is used much in the same way, but nothing about it made me give a crap or lament his cruel fate. I thought about the differences and it basically comes down to: the woman in Ides of March was a real person, we got to know her in a few short scenes, we knew her aspirations, knew her motivations, we knew she wasn't an angel, but that made her even more human. In Shanghai we know almost nothing about the doctor. He comes to deliver his speech and he exits the frame as empty as the street that he's left lying on. I can't bring myself to care for his death or for his cause because I'm not told at any point why he is fighting it, what he hopes to gain from it, or even who he is. It doesn't help that throughout the movie details about his womanizing ways keep popping up, but again, with more character development these details would have only made him human. This backstory minimalism ends up rippling through the entire movie: we can only guess that Shalini's motivations have something to do with her feelings for the doctor and with her own sense of justice, but neither feels terribly compelling. We can guess that Krishnan's actions are driven by disgust and disenchantment, but none of it is showcased in a significant way. Shanghai's characters just float above their own actions without any kind of engagement. And maybe that's the whole point, maybe this movie is supposed to be exactly about Gen Y and its detachment from its own future, its abandonment to a present that it feels it can't change, but in this particular case the economy of emotion ended up alienating me from the very topic that I'm supposed to invest in.

Another example that may resonate more with Indian movie-goers is Vidya Balan's Kahaani. Leaving aside the sloppiness that allowed me to guess the twist (and effectively ruined the movie for me), her character keeps the viewer engaged because we feel in every frame how passionate and driven she is. In Shanghai my eyes and my ears never told me why I should care, even though my mind could easily piece it together. But that simply wasn't enough.

Last but not least since we talked about Imported Kamariya, another pet peeve of mine: when, oh when, will they stop putting the equal sign between progress and corruption. When, oh when, will they stop confusing moving forward with killing India's soul? Is everything that's imported bad? Capitalism is not the devil, people! It's a system like any other. One that can be abused, or that can be used for good. Capitalism and progress don't bring corruption if corruption is not already there. You don't think capitalism would work in India? Fine, come up with an alternative. But enough of this habit of blaming everything that's wrong in that country on progress. A system doesn't abuse itself, you need people to abuse it. Ponder a bit on that, scriptwriters!

Maybe I went in with the wrong expectations, most of them caused by the film being described as a satire (which I didn't think it was, I thought it was merely social commentary). Maybe the wit and the irony got lost in translation. Maybe too much praise on Twitter did the film a disservice. Either way, I felt that Shanghai fell short of greatness. A good movie, a movie that should be watched, but not the brilliant satire that it claimed it would be. At least not for me.

Shanghai (2012)
Director: Dibakar Banerjee
Starring: Abhay Deol, Emraan Hashmi, Kalki Koechlin, Pito Bash, Prosenjit Chatterjee
Music: Vishal-Shekhar

2 Degrees of Separation: The Hockey Edition

If you follow me on Twitter (and I take this opportunity to apologize for my hockey tweets if they have become obnoxious), you probably know I'm a big hockey fan. If I were Canadian by birth this wouldn't even be surprising considering hockey is Canada's most practiced religion. But I was born and raised in a country where football is king (not the SuperBowl kind of football, the FIFA World Cup kind), and might I add, in a time when the national football team was at the peak of its glory. I find football boring and unattractive, though I admit I still watch the Euro Cup finals and the anthem of the 1990 World Cup still puts a lump in my throat (and what a great anthem that was!). Still, football never grew on me. Hockey on the other hand grew faster than a cancer. Come to think of it I didn't grow up with Bollywood either and it turned out to be love at first sight.

I realized this last year but never thought anyone would care about how similar my love for Indian movies and my love for hockey are. And then someone said they'd be interested in reading about it. So there we go: you get a 2 degrees post, and just in case you were interested, you also get to know a bit more about what the heck it is I keep ranting about on Twitter.

Elegance, flow, grace 

The first reaction I got when I announced I wanted to write a post liking Bolly to hockey was: "but there's no dancing in hockey". It was said jokingly, sure, but I'd like to respectfully disagree nonetheless. Actually I suspect the main reason why I got into hockey in the first place is it had a grace and a flow that no other team sport has. Obviously that has a lot to do with the surface on which the game is played which allows for a completely different style of movement than other sports, but I was hooked on how sexy it looked and sometimes, certain teams, how much like a dance it looked. Sure it's not always a waltz, sometimes it's more reminiscent of krumping, but the visual appeal is always there for me and it has only increased with my knowledge of hockey.

Uh... Right. As I was saying, not always the classy waltz

Speaking of ishtyle, sometimes I'm so hooked on a player's skating style that I forget there's a game happening. And just like I can pinpoint Allu Arjun in a sea of backup dancers by the distinctive way in which his body moves, so I found out (and this freaked me out a bit) I can recognize my favourite Leafs player just by the way he skates. Or the way he adjusts his helmet. Ok, I'd better not start talking about this one or someone will put me in a loony bin.
 

Colourful, shiny and full of sprinkles

Games are a lot like my favourite Indian movies: the good ones have so much going on and they are so satisfying that I need a rewatch immediately after to make sure everything sinks in. But leaving aside my favourite ones, because not all movies can be Hadippas and not all games can end with a 5-0 for the Toronto Maple Leafs, other categories of movies can be compared to some game or other. In a single season you'll have a) the ones where it's clear that a ton of work goes in and yet the outcome is disappointing (let's call those the Raavans of hockey); b) the ones where nobody shows up to play and everyone seems to be sleeping through it (we'll refer to those as the Aishas); c) games where you wonder "what the hell were they thinking??" (Ra.One seems to be a good name for this variety); d) games that don't count on the flashy stuff to succeed (the Dhobi Ghats); e) games that do count on the flashy stuff and so on. Sure the goals are always the best part (just like the songs are in movies), but it takes all kinds of games and all kinds of teams to make a full season.

If you think about the fact that a game is usually 2.5 hours and there are about 2-5 goals per game (as you would have 2-5 songs per movie), and all kinds of action and madness in between, you can see why I don't miss Bollywood as much as I should during the hockey season.

All performers on a different stage

It started out as a sport, sure, but in this day and age, hockey is just as much an entertainment industry as Bollywood is. And its players are paid the big millions to show up every other night and perform for the fans. Some would even go as far as saying they are paid the big millions to get hurt and satisfy the fans' thirst for blood, and there is some truth to that, unfortunately. But the fact of the matter is just like actors, hockey players are no longer just players. They have to also be PR machines, social-media wizards, charity drivers, cause fighters, in other words being a damn good hockey player is just the beginning of a day's work.

Living in Toronto, also known as "the centre of the hockey universe", you get so much hockey coverage that it really feels like you know these guys personally. It's hard to not care for them like they're part of your family. Of course, everyone is, to a certain extent, only offering up a persona, not a person. But much like with actors, this persona can truly change how you feel about a player regardless of how good or bad they are on the ice.

In Bollywood I see Abhishek Bachchan as one of the coolest off-screen personalities, but God knows he's not the greatest actor alive. Similarly, the uncrowned king of the hockey twitterverse Paul Bissonnette has become a brand without being a particularly good player (still wishing the Coyotes best of luck in the playoffs just because he's part of that team!).

The bench is usually where you see Biz during a game. He's still awesome though!

If in Bollywood Aamir Khan is the man with the Midas touch, Sid Crosby is his correspondent in the NHL. Whenever he's on the ice, he delivers in spades.  Not only that, but because he is (in)arguably the best player in the world, everything he does is put under the microscope. I'm sure Aamir Khan can relate to that. And yet with all the negativity surrounding both of them, because with great talent comes great hate and great nit-picking, they always come out on top. (Ok, if you're a Penguins fan, let's just forget about the last two games against the Flyers, it's not Sid's fault.). Unfortunately Sid the Kid has resembled Aamir Khan in more ways than one this year when he was about as stingy with his appearances as Aamir's movies. Here's hoping he stays healthy from now on.

Ok, so I could have picked a more decent picture. Sue me!

And with the superstars you also have the divas. It's no secret that I adore Kareena Kapoor despite her many shortcomings and if I had to think of an equivalent for her in hockey it would be Ryan Kesler. A powerhouse of talent, and yet no one understands why he makes the strangest decisions sometimes on the ice. His histrionics have made haters and even fans dub him the Olympic medalist in diving and as much as I love him for being one of the best players out there, even I can't help but shake my head when he pulls some of his stunts to draw a penalty. As we always say about Kareena: if only... if only that talent was put to good use every time...

Last but not least there's that category of stars who appear to be so boring and inane that you can't imagine them shining in anything. And then they go in front of the camera or on the ice and... it's magic. Shahid Kapoor is one such personality, and in hockey the awkward Phil Kessel is a lot like him. I can't help but be the most intrigued by these guys because come on, they can't possibly be THAT boring in real life, can they??

You'll NEVER see him this excited in an interview. Heck, you usually wonder if he has a pulse!

The list of parallels is endless: has-beens who act like they're still it (I don't think I need to name any names from Bolly, but for hockey the most prominent one this year is Alex Ovechkin); hard working grinders who never quite get their due (Pawel Datsyuk comes to mind in hockey, though there are many others for sure, just like Konkona Sen Sharma is the first name I think of for this label in Bollywood); whatever category of actors you can think of, I can find the hockey players that suit that pattern.

Emotional roller coasters

Just like a Bolly movie can make you smile from one ear to the other and then 2 minutes later have you sniffling with a heart-wrenching moment, hockey does exactly the same for me. No other sport takes me through so many emotions in the span of 2-3 hours, from wanting to throw my shoes at the TV, to yelling at the protagonists as if they could hear me, to wanting to jump in there and kiss someone (more often than not that's Lupul, but we'll skip over my blind adoration for this man), to more pedestrian emotions such as happiness or disappointment. Most people go through the same range of emotions as me, as Twitter reveals, so it seems to be something that the sport itself provokes. I certainly don't get it from any other sport. Not surprisingly, I don't get it from most Hollywood movies either.

Speaking of emotions, just like in movies, what I often remember the most is the chemistry between players. It's not as easy as it sounds, they don't just go out and pass the puck from left to right, the really good lines are special because of the chemistry that develops on ice between those particular players. As a viewer it's palpable and exciting and you remember these "jodis" even if the game itself sucked (or the team is on your blacklist). A beautiful pass, or series of passes, beats even a goal sometimes.

No, you're not seeing double, they ARE twins!

The crazy fans

It goes without saying that Indian movie fans are a breed of their own. Stories about SRK shrines and Rajinikanth worship rituals are well known, but hockey fans are not far behind. Sure it can be argued that most hardcore sports fans go the crazy route but in Canada there's no competition for hockey. It's not just about wearing the jersey or flying the flag on your car, I've seen everything from body-covering tattoos to dog apparel, to baby clothes, to months of following the team across the entire continent, if you can think about it, at least one hockey fan is guaranteed to have done it.

Source: Puck Daddy Blog

For sure it's always fun to find out what new playoff rituals the fans come up with. So far the flavour of the year for 2012 seems to be catfish and salmon thrown on the ice. For good luck, we assume.

And if you think people throwing paper and dancing in the aisles when Chiranjeevi makes his entrance in a movie is cool, try watching this compilation of Canada's reaction to the gold winning goal in the 2010 Olympics. Toronto went completely berserk, all of downtown was blocked, people were high-fiving everyone walking in the opposite direction, I didn't have a voice the next day. Great memories!



Ah, fans are a great community, but just like the Indian movie fans, the hockey crowd only wants mass entertainers, flashy plays and instant gratification. In other words they want their good-old brainless masala. And because the industry is fuelled by the fans, there is no hope of hockey getting smarter or classier any time soon. I count myself in the rarefied ranks of people who stop to think about what they demand of a team, which is why I tend to be in the minority with my opinions on hockey. Much like I am when it comes to movies. You see now how they're so similar?

So much of OTT...

It's not just Tollywood that excels at over the top fights, the NHL and its Russian counterpart, the KHL, are pretty high up there on that. And while I usually fast forward through the fights in a movie, there's no denying that the truly ridiculous ones are a ton of fun. I don't like fighting in hockey either, and I certainly disagree with the opinion that "it's a part of the game", but when you have one of those bench-clearing fights where everyone is on the ice for it, well, even I can't help but laugh. If you're gonna do something stupid, at least make it over the top, is what I always say.

Living in the moment

In both movies and hockey I always prefer the young generation over dynasties. I know the Khans are still well loved and I know Detroit is a great team, but... meh. Give me Ranveer Singh over Salman Khan any day. That's probably why I'd rather cheer for the Edmonton Oilers, a basement team this year, and for their young super-talented players than watch established teams who never missed the playoffs since the dawn of time. Call it my tendency to cheer for the underdog. I call it young talent spotting.

And what can I say, I've never been good with history. I can't bring myself to watch old Bollywood classics any more than I can be bothered to look up Leafs history from their glory days. Who cares? There's so much good stuff to be watched now, and so much better in my opinion (in terms of quality of the game), that those historical plays, much like those black and white celluloid gems, have no chance of ever getting my attention.

So much eye candy

Last but not least... Did you think I was a sucker for a pretty face only in the film industry? Nah... I'll take it from all possible sources! Like this one:

Don't ask me how in lust I am with Henrik Lundqvist. Just don't.

So there you have it. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. When I started the 2 degrees series I based it on the idea that most of my hobbies will have things in common because you know, that's why I got into them. But to be perfectly honest, this one surprised even me. So if you read all the way here (did you really???), now you know why I'm so into this hockey thing despite it being one of the least lady-friendly sports out there. Because for a sport that's not very lady-friendly, it sure has its charm...

No rhyme or reason for this one. Just felt like posting it because it's cute.

Pranayam Review

I'm sure everyone around here knows this by now: I've been starved for movies with grown-ups. Puppy love is all good and fine, but enough is enough already. So when I put Pranayam in the DVD player the other day I was ready for a good story with adults.

My excitement was toned down however when, before the movie even started playing, a collection of quotes about love got flashed on the screen, culminating with this one:

Oh man, I thought, what a tease! This will end up being yet another movie where the adult versions of the characters are on screen for something like 10 minutes and the rest of the story is a flashback of their puppy-love days. Cue eyeroll and brace self for the worst. (Not that I didn't thoroughly enjoy Love Aaj Kal, but if you think of the epilogue to Rishi's story you'll know what I mean.)

Luckily, I was dreadfully wrong! Pranayam ends up being a story about grown-ups and yet, while being that, it still allows plenty of room for the cuteness of puppy love, for the thrill of watching young hearts take on the world, and even for a bit of the classic love triangle. And it does all that without ever putting the older versions of the characters in danger for screen time.

Not that you would want to underuse such talents as Anupam Kher, Mohanlal and Jaya Prada, but Indian movies have proved in the past that even greater talent can be sacrificed in favour of their younger looking versions. So on that topic I can only say: respect to Blessy for giving us a story about old people in an era when everyone else around him refuses to age.

Namak: Mercifully! Because in the younger version Anupam Kher looks like a 12 year old with a mooche!

Dolce: Aww, come on, he's all right. And all his filmi dialogues about rain are so cute.

Namak: Cute is hardly the word I would use. Cheesy maybe?

Dolce: Whatever. They get the job done, don't they? The girl falls for it.

Namak: Just another case of girl falling for the first boy whose eyes she looks into. Textbook filmi love-story. Yawn.

Dolce: We're over that, remember? We've accepted love at first sight as a legitimate plot device. Besides, luckily for us, this one turns out to not be the one true love as it is in most movies.

Namak: True. Brownie points for that. I'm always happy to see the idea that true love doesn't happen only once acknowledged by Indian film makers.

The story, in short, is about Menon (Anupam Kher) who comes to the city to live with his son's family after suffering a heart-attack. Highly independent and unaccustomed to being looked after, he takes to roaming about the city as if he were a young man. But danger is always closer to home than we think, so one day in the elevator he runs into Grace (Jaya Prada), who, as we will soon find out, was his wife 40 years ago. Also she is the mother of his son and had abandoned them when their son was very young. Or had she? The script keeps it a mystery, but what we do know is that Grace is now married to Mathews and quite happily married by the looks of it, even if Mathews (Mohanlal) is now half paralyzed and requires constant attention. Coincidentally, they all live in the same building.

The script manages a good deal of flashbacks quite elegantly, and events from the past surface one at a time, without losing sight of the relationship that is formed in the present between the three protagonists. Not surprisingly, we don't get the full story until close to the end of the film, and it isn't the most original story either, but by then we are so much more involved with where the characters are right now, that the past remains exactly what it should be: the past.

I'm all about the relationships in movies, and Pranayam definitely does not disappoint in that respect. Whether it's the relationships between the older generation and their grandchildren, or the husbands and wives, or the father-son dynamics, all the connections between characters come across as genuine and natural. And of course, the interactions between the three main characters are particularly well drawn.

You understand right away why Grace is married to Mathews because he strikes you as such a wise, mature man. On the other hand you also understand why she had fallen for Menon in their youth and why, apart from the son, there is still a bond there. Menon is full of life and optimism, he's an explorer even when tired or ill, it's a joy to be around him. Needless to say, it's also easy to understand why both men love/loved Grace, whose name describes her perfectly. A strong, good-hearted woman who had to make some tough choices in life but retained her warmth and her spirit. And, might I add with an incipient fangirl sigh: her beauty!

Dolce: Interestingly I didn't feel that the movie manipulated me in any way on the topic of the mother living away from her son for 40 years, and I'm not sure if that was just excellent storytelling, or if it was something they glossed over on purpose. 

Namak: Hard to say, I'd say the latter, but certainly unexpected from an Indian movie. Most of them would be throwing drama at the issue after the first scene.

Dolce: And yet Pranayam kept it smoothly in the background without ever asking you to take sides.

Namak: I wouldn't go that far, there are definitely sides being "proposed" to you, ready for the taking.

Dolce: Yes, but you always know there's more to it than meets the eye, so it doesn't feel like they give you a definitive ruling: she was wrong or she was right.
Namak: Or he was wrong / he was right...
Dolce: Precisely! "Everyone makes mistakes" seems to be their philosophy, but in the end, as Mathews would say "The past is just a bucket full of ashes."

Another aspect of the movie that impressed me on the sociological level was how well the script employs the "village's rumour mill". It doesn't take being Indian to know just how much appearances and "saving face" matter in the Indian society, and yet movies have recently moved away from focusing on this aspect, no doubt in an effort to showcase the younger generation's new-found independence. Which is fine too. Pranayam, however, boldly embraces it and makes it a part of the plot.

When the trio of grandparents starts forming a friendship, both families (Menon's son and daughter-in-law, as well as Mathews' daughter and son-in-law) get increasingly concerned with the rumours that are flying around about them in the neighbourhood. What a nice and refreshing role reversal from your typical scene with the parents scolding their teenage daughters for giving the family a bad name. Here it's the daughter who raises the problem with her mother.

Don't get me wrong, far be it from me to ever be on the side of the rumour mill, and anyone who has been around this space for a while knows my general response is "to hell with it!", but I truly appreciated how this story didn't pretend to exist in a vacuum and not only did we get the angle of the immediate family dealing with their parents' problems (or their grandparents'), but we also got the social commentary associated with it. Of course, what the main characters do and how they deal with it is another matter altogether, but that is a satisfaction I will leave to you to discover.

Namak: And this is not the only place where Pranayam uses a filmi trope. If you think about it the grandparents go through practically every act of rebellion we see nowadays in rom-coms about growing up: they sneak out for secret meetings, they take off on a roadtrip without telling anyone, they go drinking, they sing a song in a packed restaurant, they go boating, etc. 

Dolce: That's may be so, but because here we see these scenes from such a different angle, they seem fresh and endearing. It's only cliche if a certain category of characters does it. You change the premise and all of a sudden all the cliches get a makeover too!

Maybe it's true that there are only a few good stories in the world. But every once in a while one storyteller twists one up enough that it seems, if not new, at least intriguing all over again.

Last but not least, a quick word on the visuals in Pranayam. Two things stand out: the sea and the rain.

The story uses both symbols heavily but the excellent cinematography makes it look as if it's a different sea and a different rain every time. And perhaps that is the message of the movie too, that despite thinking we know something (or in this case someone) and have experienced it a thousand times, there are always new sides of them to discover. Or to remember.

"With each new wave the sea looks different", Mathews notes.

Pranayam (2011)
Director: Blessy
Starring: Jaya Prada, Anupam Kher, Mohanlal
Music: M. Jayachandran
Cinematography: Satheesh Kurup
Language: Malayalam

London Paris New York

Let's face it: there's no such thing as a realistic romantic comedy. Even the movies that rule the genre and have legions of fans who can recite all the dialogues and dance all the parts (Jab We Met, Hum Tum, Band Baaja Baaraat, etc) don't exactly make you exclaim: "this could happen in real life!". Relationships work differently in real life and most of them don't do a full 180 when someone bursts out saying "I love you" (if anyone does a full 180, it's usually to run away). And that's fine. Because whether we're watching a traditional love story or a modern day rom-com, the whole point is not to think that it could happen to you, but that it would be so dreamy if it happened to you. And yes, there is a distinction there.

Most romantic comedies take a core idea: opposites attract, long distance relationships, love at first sight, take your pick, and they build around it in a way that should at least ring true. Then the most important part is finding the characters that will fit in this story. Once that's done, the rest of the details are "window-dressing". If you bought the premise and if the protagonists make it come alive for you, you'll overlook a few details here and there that move the plot forward in an artificial way. But as long as the premise makes sense and none of the plot-turning events are too ridiculous, you're likely to enjoy it.

Personally I find myself more susceptible to buy core ideas that I know exist in real life. That's why, for example, you'll see me scoff at the "love at first sight" variety, and embrace the "long distance relationship" angle. I'll find "stalk her until she admits she loves you" creepy, but I will go completely gaga for "friendship turning into love" plots. To each their own. The idea that London Paris New York is based on is among the select few that work for me: I believe there are people you meet sometimes who leave such a strong impression that you will make life-altering decisions because of them long after they stopped being a part of your life. And I believe that you can have such amazing chemistry with someone that no matter what point you're at in your life, they can show up and turn your world upside down. Does it happen with someone you've only known for 12 hours? Probably not, but this is where you have to close your eyes a little bit and accept that for cinematic purposes time can be compressed. Then again, motivational speakers claim they can change your whole outlook on life in a an hour, so who be I to doubt it?

My rom-com logic is perfectly satisfied by London Paris New York: do I buy the premise? Sure, I've seen it happen countless times. Is there enough scorching chemistry between the two leads to make it believable? Hell yes! Is ALI FLIPPIN' ZAFAR!!! (sorry, I promise this is the last time I am being a fangirl in this post, but seriously, how fabulous is this man?) believable as the guy who could turn your life upside down? Oh, I think I already answered that.

And that's not even all of it! Beyond the lovely performances from both leads, the movie is also worth watching for the way it integrates Bollywoodness in three foreign locations without taking you out of the story (the two versions of Voh Dekhnay Main and Ting Rang are a perfect example of this), and for the cute dialogues that ensure there's never a dull moment despite the movie only having two characters for almost its entire length. And this, folks, should really be the end of my review with only one more thing to add: for full-on Ali Zafar deliciousness... just go see the movie! Words do not do him justice. (Oops, I forgot I promised!)


But... BUT. We're in the middle of Adam's Rib, so what better opportunity to focus a little bit more on the female character of this film and while we're at it, on its female director/writer.

LONDON.

What I loved the most about London Paris New York (ok, this will be a lie, we all know what I loved the most was Ali Zafar, but pretend you believe me) is that it takes the stock character that we see in every other Hindi film/rom-com, uses it, and dismisses it when it no longer makes sense. In the first phase of the movie, London, Lalitha is somewhere close to 20 years of age, and she does everything we would expect from a teenage-type girl: she refuses to kiss because it would make things complicated, she doesn't want to write letters because it would trivialize the relationship, she goes on and on about how she will change the world, she thinks she's got it all figured out. She's your typical idealistic 20 year old (slightly less bubbly than the stock character, but definitely with that air of innocence about her) who thinks the future is hers to shape and it's all within her control. Her decisions make sense as such.

PARIS.

In the second segment Lalitha has grown up a bit. She's still not mature, but she doesn't believe in fairytale endings anymore. She's been through a few disappointments and she knows to take what she wants when it's there rather than relying on a future that is as fickle as the weather in London. And most importantly she's grown up physically. She's not afraid to be touched by a man anymore, she's not afraid of her sexuality anymore. I should mention that my seat-mates objected to her walking around in Paris with a long sweater that barely covered her behind, but I took it as a sign of someone who is comfortable with her own sex-appeal (and more importantly someone who wants to SHOW a man that) and for once I didn't think it was just a gratuitous skin-show - which by the way, doesn't bother me, but I do recognize it when it's inserted there. (Ahem... as in the example below.)

While talking about this segment of the film, I read an infuriating review about the movie today whose author (a male film critic, not that it should matter) faults Lalitha's character for sleeping with Nikhil in Paris. Which ties in perfectly with my rant the other week about virginal girls in Bollywood: it's what people expect and when they don't get it, they protest. Why is it uncharacteristic for her to sleep with him, I ask? Is it so hard to believe that a woman can also give in to her hormones? Or that she would want to know what she missed? Why does the episode that precedes their meeting in Paris cancel out physical desire? Is it because we're assuming that as a well-raised tam-brahm she's still a virgin? Or is it because the Indian audiences are STILL (and yes, I totally meant to shout that) not able to accept that a bona fide heroine would do something as outrageous as giving in to sexual desire? Not sure how many women would NOT do exactly what Lalitha did, and some would do it ESPECIALLY because of the history between them, so based on that, I see Mr. Nahta's objection and I raise it a middle finger. And because I'm a woman and he's not, I win by default. Ha!

Oh, and while we're at it, how droll is it that in the above mentioned review there's no objection to the fact that Nikhil complains about Lalitha not giving him any satisfaction on the first night in London? By the way I found that scene hilarious and brilliant, so nothing against the scene, but you know, if we're going to ban sexual desire, can we be fair and ban it both ways? No, of course we can't.

I've never been one to praise women over men in a particular department just because they're women. If anything I have a hard time for example reading female authors for a variety of reasons that I won't touch on right now. But give some credit to the fact that a woman wrote this script. Give her at the very least the benefit of the doubt when it comes to knowing what a woman might or might not do in a certain situation. And in this particular venture I found the female character quite well-written. Yes, there is such a thing as women wanting to sleep with a man they're attracted to regardless of the consequences and yes, there is such a thing as physical attraction trumping all the rules and all the barriers you had set up in your head. And thank you, Anu Menon for acknowledging that!

NEW YORK.

We now get to the last stage of the journey, when the characters are close to their 30s (if not right at that age). They're done figuring things out, they're done dreaming about changing the world, they're done being unreasonable. And this section pleased me the most because it does something that Rockstar surprised me with as well, and while some may knock it, I think there should be more of it: the film trusts you as an audience to understand why the two characters are where they are right now. It doesn't spoon-feed you back-story, it doesn't show you a montage of how they got there, it doesn't tell you what they've been up to. It simply tells you that another 6-7 years have gone by and it's up to YOU, the audience to understand why both protagonists are now adults and why they behave as such. Were there regrets in these seven years? Was there doubt? Were there times when the two completely forgot about each other? Did they move on with their lives? Were there times when they were one step away from calling each other? Just let your imagination fly, Anu Menon trusts you to figure it out. She trusts you to know that people evolve and grow and learn from their experiences. And if you're not able to figure that out, or if you don't buy it... then I'm very sad for you, but here's the good news: Bollywood is still full of stock bubbly girls who never grow up, tailor made just for you! There we go! Now everyone's happy!

THREE LOVE STORIES.

Most rom-coms are hard to take for me, my tolerance being zero for weepy melodrama and almost zero for contrived set-ups. When I fall in love with a movie that has either of those elements I put it down to the main couple just working for me. The idea that two people can click every time they meet each other despite being at various stages in their lives is what I would normally call a contrived set-up. And yes, I admit to being smitten by Ali Zafar and to loving Aditi Rao Hydari, but in this one I give all the credit to Anu Menon: I bought into London Paris New York because her characters are not static, they're different people from one segment of the movie to the next. Hence the way they click every time, the way they interact and relate to each other also changes from the time before. London Paris New York is not about the endurance of one love story (like in the unbearable Mausam), it's about two people falling in love with each other all over again every time. And that makes it a gem of a movie and a rarity in today's Bollywood!

(Oh, and don't forget: ALI FLIPPIN' ZAFAR!!!!!)